Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 219: General Maximilian Veers

On the high table, the middle-aged man in a black uniform looked down at the cadets seated below. Four golden stars gleamed on each epaulette, while a flaming red heart was displayed on the collar tabs. He was clean-shaven, with a sharp jawline, pale skin flushed with a faint redness, and long, reddish-white hair flowing behind his neck. A powerful aura seemed to radiate from him, pressing upon all around.

"Fire Dragon," Eleanor whispered under her breath.

Two protectors stood to his right and three officials to his left. His piercing gaze swept across the entire dining hall, and for a moment it seemed as though everyone forgot how to breathe.

Then the man spoke. His voice boomed and echoed through the hall. "I am General Maximilian Veers, commanding officer of the Academy’s security force. I will be overseeing your discipline this term. I am also the officer in charge of this dining hall. We shall be seeing one another a lot."

He paused before continuing. "On my right stand Colonel Richard Sharpe and Colonel Rudolph George. They will be in direct contact with you. Their temporary office will be located on the ground floor of your dormitory, and you may reach them at any time."

Turning his head slightly, he gestured to the three officials in white robes. "On my left are Dr. Simin Meydani, Dr. Manuel Villacorta, and Dr. Alan Aragon. They are responsible for providing your meals throughout the term. Their offices are adjacent to the kitchen here, accessible from outside. Any requests or complaints regarding food are to be directed to them."

The hundred or so cadets studied the newly introduced officials in silence, trying to imprint their faces in memory. After a measured pause, General Veers resumed, his voice carrying effortlessly to the farthest corners of the hall... resonant, controlled, the voice of a man forged in command.

"Cadets," he said, "this hall is more than a place to eat. It is a place of order, of dignity, of representation. Here you do not dine as individuals, but as cadets... as representatives of your race, and as members of this Academy."

a fork until the highest-ranking officer has begun their meal. When the meal begins, you will not rush. You need not fear missing any dish; in this Academy, food is provided in exact proportion to the number of cadets at each table. Should you encounter any shortage, raise your hand and a server will attend to you at once. You will have thirty minutes for each of

A pair of stewards stepped forward to demonstrate, laying down plates and cutlery with perfect precision.

placed for reason, not ornament. You will use them in sequence, beginning from the outside and working inward as courses are served. A fork is not a weapon,

of a man for whom discipline was

until after the meal. You will not leave your seat without

you from here. So, cadets... behave. Whether you are rewarded or punished depends entirely on you. Dr. Simin

Veers lowered himself onto the central chair at the high table. Dr. Simin Meydani

heaped with food. They placed the dishes at the centre of each table and withdrew, only to return moments later with more. Within minutes the tables

of Midgard, whose branches shield us from harm and whose roots bind us to

the high table began their meal in unison, and at

the hall filled with the faint murmur of hushed voices and the delicate clink of cutlery. The food was exquisite... worthy of surpassing even the most decorated Michelin-starred chefs... and the cadets, despite their restraint, ate with

five points for speaking loudly at the

The hall fell into immediate silence. Only the faint scraping of cutlery remained... and even that seemed subdued. The deductions continued, sharp and relentless, though gradually they grew fewer

punishment will be awarded ten points. Remember this lesson well. I

dinner. The